Broken Hawk
by MTGirlForever
Summary: Fury calls Hawkeye in to deal with a bank robbery that may be something more sinister. Reluctantly, Hawkeye agrees, but can he survive? Mostly a Hawkeye story, but Captain America plays an important part and Director Fury and Dr. Banner also make an appearance. Rated T for violence. NOT slash
1. Chapter 1

Clint Barton, otherwise known as Hawkeye, stumbled into the Avenger's Tower, arm pressed hard against his left side, to lean heavily against the wall.

Jarvis, Tony Stark's AI, registered his presence immediately. "Agent Barton, sir? May I be of assistance? You appear ill."

"Cap! Get Cap!" Hawkeye ordered, coughing harshly and doubling over.

"Right away, Sir."

On the very top floor of the massive tower, Steve Rogers was stretched out on the couch, feet propped on one armrest, and engrossed in his favorite book. Suddenly a voice echoed in the empty room. "Captain Rogers, sir?"

As always, Steve jumped and nearly dropped his book, still not accustomed to the idea that an artificial intelligence could sound just like a human being, or that he could actually communicate with it. "Yes, Jarvis?"

"Agent Barton has entered the building, Sir."

"Very good. Thanks, Jarvis," Captain America responded, puzzled that the AI saw fit to inform him of the fact, while returning to his book. While he was glad to know his roommate and best friend was back, he had just returned from a difficult mission with the Red Cross in the wilderness of Nevada, and all he wanted to do was relax.

"Sir?"

He started again. Just what was the AI's problem tonight? Surely machines didn't get lonely, did they? "Yes, Jarvis?"

"Sir, Agent Barton requests that you meet him."

Alert now, Steve demanded, "Why? What's wrong? Is he hurt?"

"He appears to be, yes."

Steve instantly flung his book aside and leaped to his feet. "What? Where is he?"

"Just inside the main entrance, Sir."

Running now, Steve yelled, "Is Natasha here?"

"No, Sir. She is on a mission."

"Dr. Banner?"

"He is out right now. Shall I attempt to summon him?"

"Yes! Hurry!" He knew full well that unless Clint was at death's door, he would never consent to going to the hospital. Getting him to let Banner look at him would be tough enough. By now Steve had reached the elevator and was jabbing the down button impatiently.

After what seemed an eternity to the now impatient and worried Captain, the elevator doors opened. Across the massive room, he saw his best friend leaning against the wall, head hanging, and Steve froze in horrified shock for an instant. Then Clint's head lifted slightly and he choked out, "Steve!"

In an instant, Steve had crossed the room to his side. Hawkeye instantly slumped forward into Steve's open arms, head falling limply against the soldier's chest. Steve had immediately taken in the blood-stained hand clamped around his side, and one hand crossed Clint's back to press hard against Clint's bloodied hand, adding pressure to the wound. What astonished him further, however, was the fact that Hawkeye was dressed in his black archer's suit, a quiver of arrows slung on his back and his treasured bow hanging carelessly from his shoulder. He was astonished, for the archer had sworn to never touch those items again after the battle for New York, saying he could never take another life under someone else's order after what Loki had done to him. "Oh, Clint, what happened?" he murmured gently, supporting the injured man carefully.

"I didn't want to do it, Cap! Said I'd never do it again!" Clint mumbled incoherently, obviously deeply upset.

Steve's free hand went to the back of his head, soothing. "Easy, Hawkeye, easy. Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay."

Hawkeye seemed to relax slightly at his friend's voice, but then Steve felt a drop of moisture on his shoulder and knew the other man was crying, even though that was nearly inconceivable. Clint Barton was as tough as they came. "Hurts, Cap," Hawkeye panted heavily, nerves and emotions too shattered to hide any longer.

Without hesitation, Steve pulled the smaller man into his arms. Clint's head immediately burrowed itself deep in Steve's shoulder, where he muffled a cry of pain. "Easy, Clint. I gotcha. Bullet wound?" he asked firmly, his military training momentarily shoving aside the emotion in order to better deal with the situation. As he spoke, he hurried toward the elevator, relieved to see Jarvis had apparently read his mind and the door was opening on his approach.

"Yeah," Clint panted heavily.

"Still in there?"

"No," Hawkeye replied, but a violent cough cut him off and a tiny trickle of blood came from his mouth.

"No!" Steve gasped in horror, soldier mode forgotten at the sight.

To his astonishment, Hawkeye grinned faintly, even though it took almost every bit of energy he had. "`sokay, Cap," he slurred. "Burst capillaries...in my...throat. Not...coughing...up blood," he managed.

Allowing himself a quick sigh of relief, Steve addressed Jarvis. "Jarvis? Dr. Banner?" he demanded even as he shoved open the door to the apartment.

"On his way, Sir. He should arrive in about twenty minutes."

Too long for Steve's liking, but at least he was coming. He started to carry Hawkeye toward his bed, but Hawkeye began to struggle inexplicably. "No! Can't...lie down!" he insisted, breathing hard from the exertion.

Not understanding, but anxious to keep the other man calm, Steve reversed direction and carried him to the couch. Lowering him carefully down, he slid behind the archer so he was half sitting up, one hand still across the wound. Clint sagged back into Steve's side instantly, shivering. He was curled up into the tiniest possible ball with the exception of his right leg stretched straight out along the couch. Steve immediately tugged the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around him, pulling the injured man closer. He was finally able to see Clint's face clearly and was horrified to see deep bruises and a gash on his jawbone, as well as a bloody gash on his ear.

"Clint, can you talk to me? What happened?" His eyes widened in horror suddenly. "It's not Natasha, is it?" That might well be the one thing in the world that would cause the archer to suit up again.

Again Clint's lips parted in a tiny smile. "No, she's okay." Then his eyes darkened again and he pressed even closer to his best friend. "Didn't wanna do it...again, Cap!" he panted, breath catching violently. "Swore I'd never do it again!"

Steve's hand feathered through Hawkeye's hair, attempting to soothe the distraught man. "Ssh," he murmured gently. "I swear it's gonna be okay. We can get through this together, I promise. Jus' talk to me...please," he added, his voice cracking. He'd seen the archer seriously upset before, but never like this, and it was scaring him.

"Fury called me in." Clint's voice was so soft Steve almost missed it, but those four words explained it all. SHIELD. Steve would love nothing more than for the organization to disappear off the face of the planet. Not only did he passionately disagree with so many of their policies, but they'd also put the Avengers, particularly Hawkeye, through the ringer, then hung them out to dry when they no longer needed them.


	2. The Hawk Flies Again - Hawkeye Flashback

Hawkeye padded silently around the apartment in bare feet, a pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt. He'd just come off a long shift as a paramedic for the NYPD and he was glad of the break that he would have for the next few days. Even though he was enjoying the silence and solitude, the apartment felt lonely without Steve, who was gone on a Red Cross mission in Nevada. Clint had been watching the news on the rare break during his shift and knew that this mission had been unusually difficult with an unfortunate amount of loss of life. Steve was due back tonight, and Clint knew that he would be anxious to unwind. He grinned suddenly and dug out Steve's old, battered Scrabble game. The soldier positively loved the game and it would help unwind him. Setting it up on the coffee table, Clint turned to the kitchen to make Steve's favorite dessert, peach cobbler.

He'd barely started getting ingredients out, however, before his cellphone rang. "Who is it, Jarvis?" Hawkeye asked the AI, hands too full to look himself.

"Director Fury, Sir. Shall I answer it?"

Clint's eyebrows furrowed deeply. "No. I'm not in, Jarvis."

"Right, Sir."

The phone rang three more times and each time Clint ignored it. On the fourth time, he finally picked it up. "Barton here. Unless Natasha is in serious trouble, which I highly doubt, I'm not coming in. I quit SHIELD for a reason after what Loki did to me, Fury, an' you know it."

Before he could hang up, however, Fury interrupted him. "There's a serious hostage situation in a bank in Manhattan."

"Sorry to hear that, Fury, but that's what SWAT teams are for."

"Barton, don't hang up on me. These guys are good - SWAT called us in, an' three of our own are already down."

"Look, Fury, I'm truly sorry about that, but I'm not coming in! I won't risk taking another life unintentionally!" Clint shot back angrily. "If you need a medic, I'll come, but I'm not goin' in."

"Agent Hill is down."

"What?" Clint demanded sharply. Maria Hill was Steve Roger's girlfriend and therefore, since Steve wasn't around to take care of her at the moment, her safety was Clint's priority. "She alive?"

"Shoulder wound."

"Then, Fury, there is no reason you need me. We both know you're good - go in yourself."

Fury ignored him. "They've got women as hostages."

"Lay off the guilt trip, Fury! I'm truly sorry, an' I will gladly help with the medical side of things, but I'm not pointing a weapon at somebody again!"

"Barton, listen to me. They have three children as hostages as well - they've let the men go, so it's jus' women and children. They've threatened to kill an eight year old boy if we don't fulfill their demands. We've got SWAT and a negotiator on the phone, but we need a man on the inside that they won't find."

Hawkeye lashed out, violently kicking the nearest chair with an inarticulate cry. Much as he did not want to resort to violence once more, the one thing he could not tolerate was a threat to a child. "Give me the address. I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Five minutes later, wearing his black archer's suit, a gun strapped to his thigh, a knife in the back of his belt, another strapped to the outside of his calf, his quiver across his back and his bow in hand, Hawkeye strode out of the Avenger's Tower, looking far more deadly than he had for some time.


	3. Angry Hawk - Hawkeye Flashback

** AN: One very angry and cold Hawkeye in this chapter. Also, I wasn't very nice to Director Fury. I actually liked him in the movie; a decent Director Fury just didn't work for this story.**

He skidded his Wrangler around a corner and came to a harsh stop not more than six inches from Director Fury's Hummer. He would have thought nothing of scraping some paint off the other man's vehicle had it not meant that he'd take it off his own treasured Wrangler too. Fury stepped away from the side of his Hummer as Hawkeye slammed the door of his Jeep and stalked up to the other man. "Agent Barton," Fury nodded casually, even indulging himself in a small smile. "Thanks for coming."

"Lay off it, Fury, an' give me a sit rep. I'm here because there's innocent people in there, not because you called me in," Hawkeye replied coldly.

Fury nodded abruptly, suitably cowed, whirling away to pull out a blueprint of the bank. "Three gunmen, all on the main floor of the bank. They went in posing as customers, but then one of them locked the door an' the other two pulled out their guns. All three have machine guns, an' at least two are also carrying pistols. From what we can gather, the leader may also be carrying at least one grenade. All have at least one knife."

"Not good enough, Fury. I'll have to make my own call - too many 'maybe's' in that statement. How many hostages? An' I want a real answer this time, not some guesstimate."

"Thirty-seven."

Hawkeye whistled under his breath. These guys had to pick one of the biggest, busiest banks in Manhattan, and at the most crowded time of day, too. That was bad - could well mean that they were doing it for more attention than money, which would spell bad news for the hostages. "You said they released the men?"

"Yes, including the bank president and the three male tellers. They told our negotiators they'd done it so we couldn't send anybody in without getting a woman or child killed."

"An' just why exactly can't you jus' give them what they want and catch up to them later? We both know full well that SHIELD could trace them."

"You don't seem to understand, Agent Barton. Ten million dollars in cold cash allowed to walk out the door? That's not exactly chump change, an' just think what kind of message that would send to any other robbers - it's perfectly acceptable to rob a bank if you have the right kind of hostages."

"So ten million dollars is the price on an innocent human being's head, hum? Life is getting pretty cheap around here these days."

"Knock it off, Barton!" Fury barked. "That never seemed to bother you before. Hangin' around those so called 'Avengers' makin' you go soft? And you know as well as I do that if they are actually allowed to get away with it, they won't hesitate to kill the hostages and anyone else in their way. Now are you going in, or do I have to force you?"

Fury was pushing it, and he failed to notice that Hawkeye's fist had curled into a tight ball. "It never bothered me because the people I took down were about as far from innocent as they could get, an' even then I didn't like the thought. An' I'm going in, but you better remember it's sure not for you. Also, should you happen to badmouth my friends ever again, I will be more than happy to introduce my fist to your mouth."

"Just take care of it, Barton. I don't need to know the details."

"Speaking of details, jus' exactly how do you expect me to get in there? I can't exactly just waltz in the front door waving a bow and arrow an' expect them all to drop to the floor in shock and terror."

Gritting his teeth at the biting words from the man who was previously his top agent, Fury muttered, "In the back door."

"Right, like they aren't watching that. Thought you were on top of your game?" Hawkeye was getting madder by the minute and no longer cared enough to pull his punches. If he was going to rescue these people, he wanted to go in there and do it, not stand around and talk about it.

"Watch it, Agent," Fury growled, his hand unconsciously curling.

"I am not your agent anymore, Fury!"

"Fine," the director finally conceded, knowing if he picked a fight with the master assassin, there was no way he'd come out on top. "What about repelling in from the building next door? I don't know too many bank robbers who'd see that one coming."

"That's a little better," Hawkeye conceded. "Now, let me see those blueprints while you figure out a way to get me up top."


	4. Fighting Hawk - Hawkeye Flashback

Hawkeye perched on the edge of the building alongside the bank and groaned softly as he examined his options. _Great, no good entry on the other side_. That meant he would have to use his combat knife to cut through the roof and into the ceiling, increasing his chances of discovery. "All right, Fury, I'm going in," he muttered into the earpiece that connected him directly with the other man.

"Good. Let me know when you're on the roof."

"Right, an' thanks for the concern. At least Coulson woulda said good luck, an' Cap woulda said be careful," Hawkeye mumbled bitterly under his breath so that Fury couldn't hear.

Shaking off the bitterness and the quick flash of memory of his old friend Phil, Hawkeye took careful aim, drew back his bow, and fired. The specialized arrow imbedded itself on the stone wall directly underneath the rooftop, leaving a tautly stretched rope from one building to the other. He took the time to test his weight once before attaching the glider to the rope, then muttered, "Here goes," as he swung down the rope and toward the next building. He bent his knees to lessen the impact but still felt a small twinge of pain as he slammed into the side of the building. Ignoring it, he grabbed the edge of the roof with one hand and quickly manhandled himself up before cutting the rope. "On the roof," he hissed softly to Fury. "Any indication they know?"

"No - all clear."

"Good. Check me. I landed right at the spot we discussed - three feet in and two and three-fourths feet to the left to reach ideal entrance, correct?"

"That's it," Fury replied.

"Right," Hawkeye mumbled before drawing his knife and slipping silently across the roof. As quietly as possible, he cut into the roof, the serrated, saw-like edge of his knife making quick work of it. Once he'd cut into the ceiling, he dropped in quickly and silently, eyes flicking every direction to make sure he'd avoided detection, even though they were highly unlikely to have thought to place a guard in the attic of the old building.

Knife between his teeth for faster access, he slipped across the attic to the ventilation system. Finding the air shaft he wanted, he expertly pried off the cover and slipped inside. A thousand feelings and emotions slammed into him at once and he had to put out a hand to steady himself for an instant. "Barton? You all right?" Fury's voice came over the comm device, and actually carried the closest thing he could manage to concern.

"In the airduct - no more talking unless absolutely necessary until it's over," Hawkeye whispered, shaking off the emotions once more.

Knife still clenched between his teeth, he began to make his tedious way through the airshaft until he at last could see through the grate over the lobby of the bank. He pulled the knife from his teeth and lay flat, breathing low and steady as he took stock of everything. So far as he could tell, none of the hostages were injured as yet, but almost all were badly shaken. He backed away from the grate a little to talk to Fury.

"Fury, your men can't count or give the first semblance of a solid report," he grumbled softly into the comm device, knowing he couldn't be heard by anyone below. All three of the robbers carried sub-machine guns, each carried an automatic pistol and a wicked combat knife, and the apparent leader carried four hand grenades plus what appeared to be enough C-12 to level the building. They also moved with a precision that he'd only seen in highly trained military units. "You sure they're jus' tryin' to rob this place, not blow it off the map?"

"What's wrong, Barton? What do you see?"

"I see three extraordinarily angry and well-trained men, all armed to the teeth. Leader has four grenades an' enough C-12 to blow the block. If he's plannin' on blowing the safe with it, he's an absolute fool. I've seen robberies in my time, Fury, an' I'm not so sure this is one of them."

"Then what on earth do you think it is? A movie plot gone wrong?" Fury shot back.

"Ever occur to you that this wouldn't be a bad idea for terrorists? A take of several million dollars to jump-start a terrorist program, well-trained robbers that won't negotiate an' took down three top agents plus four members of SWAT? I've got a reason to be suspicious," Hawkeye replied, ignoring Fury's dripping sarcasm.

"They look foreign? Our people couldn't get a good look in the few seconds they were in there."

Hawkeye let out something resembling a snarl. "Lay off the stereotypes, Fury, an' you might have more success with your programs! Believe it or not, not every terrorist has to come from a foreign country - I've seen more than my fair share of home-grown ones. America may be good, but she's not perfect."

"Watch your mouth, Agent. We'll be having a talk when it's over."

"You forget I'm not your puppet anymore, Fury." He tensed suddenly, pulling an arrow from his quiver and sliding closer to the grate. "Uh-oh. Not good."

"What is it? What's happening?"

"They got a woman, an' they're pulling her up, knife at her throat. Negotiators hearing anything?"

"Saying if we don't start giving them everything they're asking for, they're gonna start killing them, one at a time, an' slow."

Hawkeye's jaw clenched. "Not on my watch they're not."

"How you going to do this, Barton? Three's a lot to take, even for one man."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Hawkeye grumbled, not particularly intent on what the other man was saying. All his attention was on the struggling woman below. "One at a time, Fury, one at a time."

As he spoke, he drew back his arrow, held his breath for a second, and released it. It flew through the narrow grate and unerringly into the back of the man with a choke hold on the terrified woman. He heard a scream of terror as the knife clattered to the ground and the woman lunged to the side as the man fell in a heap to the ground, as dead as they got. Hawkeye, from his perch twenty feet above, felt his stomach turn over and he had to clench his jaw. "Barton?"

"One down," he replied, jaw still clenched as tight as it could get.

The two remaining men whipped around, looking everywhere at once. They seemed astonished, and rightly so. The arrow was a completely silent killer, and no windows were shattered. Everyone's attention had been on the woman before the arrow hit its mark, so no one had the slightest idea where it had come from. "Boss?" the remaining man demanded of his leader, his voice trembling slightly.

"Tell the negotiator they just moved their timetable up fifteen minutes for that! They don't get that helicopter in here in five minutes, we blow the whole block!" the leader bellowed.

"I was right," Hawkeye mumbled into the comm device. "Terrorists."

"Can you describe them so we can get agents working on identification? And why can't you jus' take the other two down an' be done with it?"

"Not now," the archer growled, attention devoted fully to the man who was now on the phone with the negotiators. "They have guns trained on the hostages. I hit one, they pull the trigger, at least one innocent is going to die. Not doin' that, Fury."

"Well, hurry up. If the media finds out about the fact these are terrorists, not robbers, they'll have a heyday!"

Hawkeye shook his head in disgust. "You really need to get your priorities in order," he hissed as he slithered forward once more.

His eyes roved restlessly, taking in the scene. The leader seemed calm and sure of himself, but the other man seemed anxious. Good. That would make him more likely to make a mistake. Hawkeye doubted the leader would think to look up at the airshaft; he almost certainly hadn't been trained for that, but he had to be prepared in case he did. Suddenly he saw a tiny window of opportunity. Arguing vehemently with the negotiators, the man on the phone had lowered his guard slightly, his weapon lowering just enough that it would hit the floor instead of a victim if it went off. Quickly, Hawkeye drew, let out a breath, and fired before almost instantly shifting into a crouched position over the grate.

Once again the arrow hit true, and the man slumped to the floor. His machine gun went off into the marble floor with a horrific chatter, spraying tiny pieces of stone that made several cry out, but no one was hit by a bullet.

The leader reacted instantly, not wasting time to find wherever the deadly arrow had come from. "All right, whoever you are, an' wherever you are, that does it! These people are all going to die, starting with this one!"

As he spoke, he whipped the machine gun around to aim at a little boy, who cowered in terror against his mother. Hawkeye saw it coming, knew he had no time to grab an arrow, aim, and fire. He took the only option remaining to him and slammed through the grate, tumbling toward the floor below.


	5. Deadly Hawk - Hawkeye Flashback

With a banshee war cry, Hawkeye fell from the ceiling to the absolute astonishment of everyone in the room. He slammed into the ground, landing badly and feeling his knee give out beneath him as it wrenched out of socket, but even as it buckled, he shoved the boy out of the way. Unfortunately for him, the remaining terrorist reacted instantly. The archer barely registered the flame of pain that shot through his side, but knew he'd been hit by the bullet intended for the boy.

Hawkeye was rolling over and launching himself at the man before the echo of the gunshot even died away. He brought the man down with a tackle about the knees, yelling in a hoarse voice at the same time, "Everybody out!" He was terrified that the man would get a hold of one of the grenades and set it off, killing all the innocent victims.

He was vaguely aware that the hostages were fleeing, some screaming, but all his attention now was on the giant of a man he was wrestling on the floor. To his astonishment, he suddenly found himself on the bottom, his breathing coming fast and hard as the man's giant hand closed around his throat. With one hand pressing hard over the man's pressure point to keep him from completely choking him, Hawkeye twisted his injured leg painfully and grabbed a hold of his leg knife. With a violent heave, he managed to throw the man off, pinning him to the ground. He raised his knife high above his head and brought it down hard and fast. It was a killing slash, but the terrorist saw it coming and jerked his head at the last possible second so that it only slashed a deep, bloody gouge in his ear.

With a cry of rage, he kneed Hawkeye hard, right where he'd been shot. Hawkeye let out a cry of pain and was momentarily weakened enough that the other man once again took the advantage and threw him to the floor, pinning him with his heavier weight. Then he began to twist the archer's arm viciously backwards until Hawkeye had to release his knife or end up with a broken arm. In a second, the terrorist had the knife high above his head in a position that mirrored Hawkeye's from just seconds before. He brought it slashing down with a sadistic grin, but Hawkeye wasn't a master assassin for nothing. He drove his knee hard into the man's gut as the knife came down and twisted violently. Nonetheless, the knife left a deep gash down his jawbone and even managed to scratch his ear before clanging into the marble floor. _Fury, you can send in backup any time now_, Hawkeye thought desperately.

The terrorist roared in anger and delivered a ringing blow to Hawkeye's jawbone that left him seeing stars and would have knocked a lesser man unconscious for hours. Feeling his body weakening and knowing he'd never survive if he didn't move now, Hawkeye tensed every muscle in his body and launched his body upwards. The startled terrorist, having felt Hawkeye weakening and thinking he had him now, sailed off the archer to slam hard into the floor. In an instant, Hawkeye was on top of him, pinning him to the ground and whipping the knife from its sheath at the back of his belt. Feeling sick, but knowing he had no choice as he saw the man grappling for a grenade and his gun had fallen free sometime during the fight, Hawkeye plunged the knife deep into the man's chest, feeling him shudder once and then cease breathing.

With a shattered gasp, Hawkeye slid off the man and sagged against a pillar. _Cap. Gotta see Cap_. His mind now on a single track, the injured man pushed himself to his feet and stumbled toward the main entrance, slinging his bow carelessly across his shoulder and noting that all the hostages were gone but barely registering the fifteen members of SHIELD rushing in. Their timing was impeccable, he thought bitterly. Limping heavily on his injured knee, he stumbled outside toward his Jeep.

Fury cut him off. "Barton!"

"All clear, Sir," Hawkeye mumbled tiredly, arm pressed hard against his bleeding side.

"Good man. Now let me get you to a medic - you look awful."

"Not all of it's mine, an' I'm not goin' anyway. `sides, what do you care?" Hawkeye growled bitterly, not even noticing the slur in his own words.

"That's not an option, Barton, that's an order!" Fury was not used to being ignored, and he didn't remember the archer ever being quite this stubborn. What he didn't realize was that Phil Coulson had had a way with Hawkeye that no one else did. Not only that, but Phil actually cared what happened to him, and Hawkeye respected that enough to actually listen to him.

"Don't care. Not marchin' to your drum anymore. Goin' home," Hawkeye spat out, beginning to cough harshly. _Home. When had the Tower became home? Must be what happened when you finally got a family and friends who'd stand by you no matter what_. "Now get outa the way before I make you. At this point, I don't really care."

Reluctantly, but seeing the fire burning in the archer's eyes, Fury backed off enough to let the smaller man pass. Without a second glance, Hawkeye marched past him and slid, exhausted, into the Jeep. He slumped slightly in the seat for a moment, trying to make his tired brain remember what he needed to do next. Finally he figured out how to turn the ignition and, feeling his teeth begin to chatter, he blasted the heat. Still shivering, he shifted into gear and headed toward the Tower, not sparing the chaotic scene behind him a second glance.


	6. Captain Furious

Steve had listened in silent horror as Clint quietly related everything that had happened to him. Now that the younger man had finished speaking, Steve was finally aware of the fact that both of them were trembling. He carefully pulled the archer even closer, knowing that if he hadn't had to worry about the other's injuries, he would have been up and punching something in order to get rid of some of the unhealthy emotions raging within him.

"Oh Clint," he murmured softly against the other's ear.

"I'm so sorry, Cap. I failed," Clint panted hoarsely, unconsciously cringing as he expected a ringing rebuke from the soldier at breaking his word.

To his astonishment, Steve's hand ran lightly through his hair, soothing him. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, Clint, and you're for sure not a failure. You did what you had to do, and I don't want you thinking anymore about the fact that you took down three men. You need to remember instead that in doing so you saved countless women and children, and probably some more people as well. Had you not stopped him, that terrorist might well have lost his cool and blown the entire building, killing not only everyone inside it, but almost certainly everybody around it as well. Do you understand?"

Clint lay in silent astonishment for a few seconds before replying softly, "Yeah. You really mean it, don't you?"

"You better believe it," Steve replied forcefully.

"Thanks," the archer murmured, sagging back into Steve's shoulder. "Cap? Asking permission to have a word with Fury upon recuperation."

"Nope, sorry, soldier. As leader of the Avengers, that's my prerogative. But don't you worry, he won't be a happy man when I'm through with him." Captain America's eyes were flashing deadly sparks of fire, and even though Clint couldn't see his face, he could feel the tension in the other man and could easily picture his expression, which could have curdled milk.

Hawkeye snorted softly. "Don't imagine. I wouldn't want to mess with you." He shuddered suddenly as a lance of pain shot through his leg and rooted itself in his injured knee. "It hurts, Cap," he panted. He could feel his vision starting to fade, and there was a soft roaring in his ears.

Behind him, Steve could feel the archer beginning to lose the battle with consciousness and he tightened his hand across the wound. "Easy, Hawkeye. Jus' hold on - deep breaths through your nose. Jarvis!" he barked. "Where's Banner?"

"About three minutes away, Sir."

"Good. Hear that, Clint? Jus' hang in there a few more minutes," Steve pleaded. He could feel his heart pounding heavily, partially from worry and partially from a deep-seated rage at the man who had done this to his best friend. All he wanted to do was charge out of here and give Fury a piece of his mind, as well as an introduction to his fists, but he wasn't about to leave Clint. Besides, if he didn't cool himself down a little first, he might end up doing something he would regret later. As soon as Clint was stable and resting easily, he would be paying a visit to the gym and Tony would need to replace at least ten punching bags.


	7. A Piece or Two

Bruce Banner took the stairs three at a time toward the apartment at the top of the tower. It would definitely have been faster to have taken the elevator, but the Other Guy didn't like elevators. He had taken a few extra minutes to grab his medical kit and a unit of blood. Jarvis hadn't said much, but the fact that Clint was hurt badly enough to warrant his services was an indication that things were very wrong.

He burst through the door to find Hawkeye curled up against the Captain on the couch, one leg stretched out in front of him, but more to his astonishment, he thought he saw tears in the archer's eyes. The team had seen some ugly things, and they had talked through some even worse things, but Bruce had never seen Clint cry. He knew he had, of course, at least at Phil Coulson's funeral and perhaps before that when he and Captain America had had a long talk that they refused to discuss with the others, but Clint Barton was not a man to let his feelings show. Then Banner's heart began to pound and he dropped to his knees in front of the two men. "Natasha?" he demanded.

To his relief, both Clint and Steve managed a small grin. "She's fine," Steve reassured the doctor.

"Good." Whatever it was, it was not the absolute worst it could be. Even as he was speaking, Banner had gently pushed Steve's hand away from the wound in Clint's side to examine it more closely. Even though it was a deep wound and had evidently bled significantly, the Captain's continued pressure had slowed the blood loss. "Good job slowing the bleeding, Cap. Clint, can you breathe okay?"

"Breathe? What's that?" Hawkeye panted snarkily, in a tired attempt at his normal humor.

Banner rolled his eyes. "Come'n, we need to get you lying down somewhere so I can work on you, since I don't suppose you'll listen to reason an' go to the hospital." At Clint's predictable shake of his head, Bruce sighed. He wasn't surprised; in fact, he doubted the archer would have recovered quickly or well in a hospital. He had some sort of deep-seated revulsion to hospitals that could easily have hindered his recovery. "Fine, figured as much. Come'n, let's get you to bed then."

To his astonishment, Hawkeye shook his head violently. "No!" he gasped.

Steve pulled the younger man closer. "Easy, Hawkeye. You know we need to work on you, an' it'll make things a whole lot easier if you're lying down. What's wrong with your room?"

"Jus' can't!" Clint mumbled.

And then Steve realized the problem. There was a picture of Phil Coulson in Clint's room and it was Phil's death that had made Clint quit SHIELD in the first place. "Okay, jus' relax. Coffee table then, okay?"

"`kay," Clint slurred. Loss of blood and shock were beginning to catch up with him and retaining consciousness was becoming a serious struggle. He'd been able to focus on something else while he was telling Steve what had happened, but now that he'd lost that focus, he was finding the struggle to stay conscious harder and harder.

With a confused glance but realizing that there was something deeper going on here, Banner shrugged and began to clear off the Scrabble game from the coffee table while Steve pulled Clint carefully to his feet. Clint's head fell against his shoulder and Banner shot a glance at Steve. "SHIELD," Steve mouthed and Bruce nodded understanding completely in an instant.

Steve saw a bit of green fleck in Bruce's eyes and he murmured, "Easy," although it could have been directed at the nearly unconscious man leaning heavily against him as well. Then he noticed the Scrabble game for the first time. "Scrabble, ehh, Clint?" he murmured, trying to ground him as he lowered the archer carefully down on the table.

Not even bothering to open his eyes this time, Clint grinned faintly. "Yeah. Sorry, Cap. Scrabble an' peach cobbler'll have to wait a while," he muttered, but he cut off at the end with a cry of pain, dragging his left knee toward his chest. He felt Steve's hand close over his and he gripped it tightly, trying to ride out the pain.

"It's okay, Hawkeye. You jus' concentrate on getting better, so Tash doesn't kill me," Steve tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Clint grinned anyway and pressed his hand. "Hurts a bit, Doc," he whispered to Banner, who had immediately begun digging through his bag at Clint's cry of pain.

"I know. You relax - I'm gonna give you something for the pain and then establish an IV line - you lost a lot of blood. Jus' try and lie still." As he spoke, Bruce expertly swabbed an area in Clint's bicep before giving him a shot of morphine. Clint cringed but then relaxed almost immediately as the powerful drug began to work.

It took Bruce several minutes to find a vein large enough to insert a saline drip and blood line, but he finally found one. He noticed Hawkeye still trying to fight losing consciousness and he ordered gently, "Quit fightin' it, Clint. You'll feel better an' it'll make my job a lot easier."

With a deep sigh, as though he'd just needed permission all along, Clint passed out, his hand falling limp in Steve's. Steve gently removed his hand and ran a shaky hand through his hair as Bruce fitted Clint with a portable oxygen mask, knowing he needed it but would have fought it when he was still conscious.

"Doc?" Steve demanded anxiously.

"He'll be all right with time. It's a bad wound, an' he lost a lot of blood, but he's tough. I'm more worried about his mental state though. What happened?"

"Bank robbery an' terrorists. Fury called him in."

"Thought he'd sworn never to do it again?" Bruce asked as he began to carefully strip Hawkeye of his bloody shirt before carefully bathing and stitching the wound while all the while wondering why he hadn't heard about it on the news. Then it occurred to him - Fury had found a way to cover it up. Teeth set in anger, Banner continued his work.

"Fury guilt-tripped him - told him they had a kid they were gonna kill an' that they'd shot Maria." Bruce's head snapped up at that and Steve tossed him a weak grin. "She'll be okay, but Clint couldn't take that."

Banner trembled slightly with rage. "One of these days SHIELD is really gonna make me mad."

Steve snorted softly. "Remind me to pay a visit to Thor in Asgard whenever that happens."

The corner of Bruce's mouth twitched in a tiny smile for a second before he asked quietly, "How many did he have to take down?"

"Three. One of them shot him when he had to jump from his hiding place to protect a little boy. They rolled around, Clint got his knife out an' almost stabbed him, but the guy jerked an' it just nicked his ear. Then he kneed Hawkeye right where he'd shot him, an' got a hold of his knife, hence the jaw and ear wounds. Clint had another knife though an' had to stab the guy. Fury tried to stop him, get him to see a medic, but Clint was seeing red an' came home."

"I think I'll be havin' a talk with Fury," Bruce growled, even as he finished stitching Clint's side and went to work on his face.

"Yeah? Get in line. Nobody messes with my best friend."

Bruce glanced up at Captain America, whose eyes were sparking dangerously, and for perhaps the first time since he'd accidentally created the Hulk, Bruce Banner felt fear. An enraged grizzly bear was probably safer to deal with than an angry Captain America. "Save me a piece or two?" he joked quietly.

Steve grinned a little and relaxed slightly. "Maybe."


	8. Grizzly Bear Unleashed

Various members of SHIELD glanced up in surprise as Captain America stormed through the helicarrier. Among them was Natasha Romanoff, who had just returned from her overseas mission. She cut him off, forcing him to slow down at least a bit. "Cap? What's wrong?" she demanded.

"Later," Steve replied firmly. "Where's Fury?" Clint had finally stabilized enough that Steve felt comfortable leaving him for a few hours in the capable hands of Tony and Bruce. He hadn't told anyone but Tony where he was going, but they all knew that nothing aside from Fury could pull Steve away at the moment.

"In the conference room. But..."

He cut her off as he brushed by her. "No buts, Natasha. Later," he said coldly.

She stared after him in astonishment as he wove through the various bystanders, ignoring attempts at friendly greetings. Clearly something Fury had done had set the Captain off. She'd seen Hawkeye that mad before, but Captain America? That just didn't happen. As she reflected on the dark rage burning deep in his eyes as he'd gently but firmly pushed her aside, however, she felt a cold chill of fear, something with which she was highly unfamiliar. There were very few men in her life that Natasha Romanoff couldn't take, including Hawkeye - at least part of the time, but she had serious doubts about whether or not she could take an enraged Captain America. She and the rest of the SHIELD agents recognized that they were watching a very dangerous man.

The Captain brushed aside the few guards foolhardy enough to get in his way and slammed open the heavy oak door into the conference room.

Nick Fury whirled around, angered at the intrusion during his semi-annual meeting with the board of directors, only to freeze in shock. Silhouetted in the doorway was a very clearly enraged Captain America. Recovering, Fury said calmly, "Whatever's got your dander up's going to have to wait, Captain. I'm currently in the middle of a very important meeting with the board."

"Even better. Now I don't have to track them down an' have this conversation with each one of them." In an instant Steve was across the room, grabbing Fury by the shoulder and shoving him firmly into the closest chair. "Now you listen, an' you listen good," he growled. "Clint Barton came to the Tower three days ago bleeding heavily an' as shook up as I've ever seen a man. He told me that you'd sent him into a bank to rescue a bunch of hostages an' he had to take three lives. You sent him in there knowing he'd retired from SHIELD for the very reason that he couldn't stand the thought of anyone else's blood on his hands at somebody else's orders."

"Agent Barton's expertise was needed," Fury said, much more calmly than he felt.

"He is not an agent anymore!" Steve bellowed. "Twenty others could have done it an' you know it! Not only that, but you didn't leave him an option. He told you no an' you badgered him, then guilt-tripped him until he went in. You're smart enough to know that a man who shouldn't be in a situation in the first place is a lot more likely to get injured than one who went in willingly. Besides that, you sent him in without backup! I don't know what kind of leader you think you are, but that is completely unacceptable in my book. Now, if you ever get in a situation like that again, you ASK him to go in, an' you respect his decision if he tells you no. Understood?"

"What's the matter, Captain? Can't Barton speak for himself? Or is he too cowardly?" one of the other members of the council taunted.

With an inarticulate cry of rage, Steve charged across the room, grabbed the man by the collar, hauled him from his seat, and delivered a ringing blow that sent him smashing into the wall. Instantly, Fury's hand reached for his hide-out gun under the table to take down the Captain.

"I wouldn't do that, Director," a cool voice warned suddenly from the doorway.

Natasha Romanoff stood framed in the doorway, gun rock steady and aimed directly between the Director's eyes. She had followed the Captain to the boardroom and overheard the entire conversation. "You want to know what a real friend and leader looks like, Director? You promised us that you were on our side after the battle for New York, but you just broke that trust. I'll follow that man to the ends of the earth without blinking an eye, because he stands up for those he cares about. He and Phil Coulson got that, an' until you an' the rest of the board figure that out, don't expect any resounding trust from any of us. If the world needs saving again, we'll be there, but otherwise, don't expect us to come at your every beck and call." Glancing at the Captain, she said mildly, "Come'n, Cap, let's go. I want to see Hawkeye myself an' make sure he's all right."

Without another glance, the Captain and master assassin left side by side, leaving an astonished and very cowed Council in its wake.

And Tony Stark, knowing of the Captain's plan and having hacked into the helicarrier's communication system, grinned in pride. Sure, Clint had a relatively long recovery ahead of him, both physically and mentally, but with Captain America leading them, Tony had absolutely no doubt that they would all be just fine, and most likely stronger for it, too.


End file.
